


Cursed Out

by In_The_Ghost_Mode



Category: Danny Phantom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Coffee, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Humor, I tried my best, Jack Frost - Freeform, M/M, Ok also in this AU the Ghos King comes in muuuuuuch later, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Some Cursing, danny phantom - Freeform, idk man, in where nothing is as it should be, mayyyyyybe?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-03-07 14:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13436286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_The_Ghost_Mode/pseuds/In_The_Ghost_Mode
Summary: Soulmates are a thing, first words are on sense birth, bla, bla, bla. and since Danny can't be a normal person, naturally the first thing he says is "Shit." He's kinda on a quest and Jack Frost get's dragged into it, and the Ghost King has Amity Park.... Typical.





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmates are a thing, first words are on sense birth, bla, bla, bla. and since Danny can't be a normal person, naturally the first thing he says is "Shit."
> 
> Danny is on a quest, basically. Meanwhile his friends and family are trying to basically keep everyone alive and ghosts not more dead. And Jack Frost isn't entirely who he seems.
> 
> ... Typical.

_The Radio reminds me of my home far away_

_Driving down the road I get a feeling That I should have been home_

_yesterday, (John Denver)_

 

 

 

 

 

Due to 'soulmates' being a thing, everyone’s first words to each other was their name. It was just common sense. Say your name to everyone you meet then boom. Stuff gets easier.

Danny Fenton’s was easy enough. right across his wrist read; _I’m… Jack Frost. Hi and, uh, Sorry_.’ was what it said. He was also 95% sure that whoever this ‘Jack Frost’ was started Danny’s love for puns simply because how can one _not_ make puns when some poor bastard had a name like _Jack Frost_.

Danny already had a whole list of what he could say after telling his name.

‘ _Are you related to that Robert Frost guy_?’

‘ _Snow time like now_. _Eh! Get it! Snow… no…_ ’

‘ _You look a little… chilly_ , _Jack Frost nipped your nose_?’

‘ _Got frostbite_?’

Could Danny forgive this stranger? Maybe one day. However, from Danny knowing himself, the guy probably must walk around his whole life with some stupid-ass pun on his own wrist, arm, butt, whatever. So, Danny can probably safely say that they were even.

But given that Danny hunts the undead in his every waking moment, he’s permitted himself to stay bitter at this said, Jack Frost.

Danny’s thoughts snapped back to Starbucks when he was next in line. “One cup of espresso please.”

“You mean shot, right?" This poor woman sounded like she had her soul sucked out. The bags under her eyes were almost as bad as Danny's. It didn't help that right off the bat Danny could tell she was less than happy in her green striped shirt that seemed like some sorta strange uniform. "What kind of coffee would you-”

“One _cup_ of espresso, please.” Danny had to deal with ghost, frootloops and even worse ghosts on a sub-hourly basis. Did he need this? _Damn right_. He was out of town for a reason and he was gonna milk it for all it was worth.

The barbette dark brown eyes widen in the kind of horror and awe one would have if they had met a forgotten god of lore (kinda like the one Danny first gave to Clockwork). Her and her co-worker traded a nervous look. “Are you _sure_ -”

“Yes.” Danny ignored the stares that came from behind him or anyone in the immediate hearing range. “I am absolutely sure.”

“One… cup of espresso coming up… then.” In almost a daze, the barbette dully did her duties as Danny moved to the side.

The stares of horror only grew when Danny a mere ten minutes later ordered a second _cup_ of espresso. This time around Danny decided to sit down and wait, rather then stand around the counter. The ache in his legs and this weeks ‘round of scars made it not worth standing up.

If Danny was still completely human, he would’ve been ticking and vibrating out of his chair. Ascended godhood. Whatever happened to people if they had a cup of espresso. However, he felt rather soothed. A bit relaxed like he had a nice cup of tea instead. A bit bitter, but, eh.

Ah. Here came a barbette, different from the first two. Messy brown hair, brown eyes. Tall, knobbly thing. Kinda cute though. He was giving Danny a strange look, but, Danny figured that he deserved it at this point.

Then, of course, the next thing Danny knew was that he had espresso all over his shirt.

And it _burned_.

Now, usually, burning? Nothing. That was nothing compared to most ghost fights.

Burning on a set of scars that had just recently closed up?

That, was a different story.

“Shit. Fuck, fuck _fuckity_ fuck _shit_.”

The barbette’s eyebrows rose higher and higher at Danny’s every passing word. Frozen still in shock.

“Frick frack _fuck_.” Danny press his arms to his burning chest and hissed to himself. Wincing then trying to avoid having anything touch his own torso. “Fuckfuckf _uuuuuuck_.” Danny glanced up at the strange barbette who was scrambling and instead of getting Danny something like, I don’t know, _napkins_ , he shoved up his stripped sleeve, then might as well shoved his almost snow-like pale arm to Danny’s face.

The longer Danny looked at the arm, the wider his eyes went as he stated one final; “ _shit_.”

Every single one of Danny’s words matched the ones on the other teen’s arms. Right down to the last shit. Stunned to silence? That was Danny, burned chest long forgotten.

The boy placed down his arm before awkwardly lifting it back up to shake his hand. “I’m… Jack Frost. Hi and, uh, Sorry.”

Danny’s jaw hung open. There were a thousand things that he should say. _So, we finally meet._ Would've been the most cliché, there for the best. _What the hell_ would've been socially acceptable. _Owwww_. Even just _ow_ would've sufficed.

A high pitched "Can you please get napkins?" Was, without a doubt, not on the list. But, for better or for worse, what happened.

With grimiest and rounded eyes, Jack Frost scrambled to get Danny some napkins.

_. . ._

 

Right at this moment, Danny was trying hard to not look at Jack while they sat on the park bench. "So..."

Jack Frost cleared his throat, "Right."

"Soulmates."

"You... and me."

Danny buried his hands onto his face. "God, this is more awkward then I anticipated."

"I always thought that things would kinda just..." Jack see-sawed his hand. "click? I guess? I dunno, more natural?"

"Mm."

Birds chirped in the distance. And Danny could practically feel is heartbeat thrumming at his fingertips and his chest began to tighten. What on earth could they talk about? ' _I hunt ghosts_.'

' _I sorta died three years ago when I was 14_.'

' _I ran away from home because I couldn't defeat The Ghost King and I'm trying to figure out a way to fix this and now your here on top of it all_.'

' _My whole town was kinda sucked into the void._ '

Yeah, no. Not exactly the best conversation starter. Danny took a long, draining gulp from his (new and free) cup of espresso, ignoring the blatant look of disgust and mild concern from Jack Frost.

Jack scrunched his nose. "That can't be healthy."

"bite me."

"If you live past thirty I'd be genuinely surprise."

 _Can't kill what's already dead_. "Screw You."

"Your gonna get a heart attack, _tomorrow_ at this rate,"

Danny stared at Jack straight in the eyes as he took another, _long_ , sip.

"I- ok. If you die now _I_ die, that's how this works now, right?"

Danny gave a sharp snort, fingers curled, tightening around his cup. "No, we just can't be separated for too long now. Or um, pain. And stuff." Danny made a one-handed rainbow gesture over his head, "just, Discomfort. Until, whatever." Danny then winced at the thought. Now, he and Jack Frost can't be too far apart. Wherever Danny went, so did Jack. _Danny can't leave_. He couldn't just, up and go to find other ways to the ghost zone Like he planned to. Shit, could a human without protection even go into the ghost Zone? _Fuck_.

Jack Frost fidgeted with his sleeves as he slowly nodded, "Ah, that's right. And it'll hurt until whatever happens, right? I mean..." Jack Frost threw his hands up in the air. "I dunno. I don't know. I mean, Soulmates really romanticize it, doesn't it? Like it's always going to be forever."

Finally, Danny managed to slow his heart-rate, and his chest didn't feel as tight. Soulmates here had a very different meaning then most romance novels. A 'soulmate' could be a guy you passed on the street. Clash then gone, no pain. Perhaps the name or whatever words a person had on them was a good friend, maybe even your worse enemy. Just someone that the universe decides is the person that'll change your life for better or for worse. It's almost never, 'forever', just... just a name that carry's on to an event. Then when it's all said and done, they could move on. Rarely was romance ever involved. Rarer _still_ if they kept some long-lasting relationship.

For example, Jazz had already met hers, she was just a woman on the street. A woman in her forties or so, Danny doesn't know what happened exactly, but it inspired Jazz to take psychology when she was real little. And then they never spoke again.

Maybe Danny will get lucky enough and it'll be the same for him.

Danny's body stiffened when he thought of Jazz, trapped in that hell-hole like everyone else.

 _I left her_.

 _I left_ them.

Danny's head spun like the world was upside-down and was turning too fast.

 _I left I left I left I_ -

"Hey, uh. Are... Are you ok? You look pale,"

Danny's mouth felt dry as if someone stuffed cotton down his throat and his hands were an ashy color, no doubt like the rest of him. "No offence but you coming around now is real inconvenient for me." NO. THAT'S NOT WHAT HE WANTED TO SAY. Danny slapped the palm of his hand on his forehead. "I- no, _crap_ -"

"No no, It's cool. I got the impression that you're going through a lot." Jack Frost eyed the coffee cup. "The espressos gave it away."

Danny peered over, waving a hand over his own face. "And the raccoon eyes?"

Jack Frost winced and rubbed the back of his neck, "I- well. Yes. Definitely. It was a pretty efficient red flag."

"Huh." Danny turned back at the scenery with a numb, blank face. "It probably cuz I haven't slept _at all_ for a week." Danny didn't want to say _that_ either.

A clunky tap-tap reached his shoulder. When Danny turn over Jack seemed to freeze, "Too much?"

"A tad." Danny then shrugged, "Bonus points for trying though."

"... yay...?"

Both shifted in the bench.

"So, um. I guess... Thank you? For, the- um. For getting me out of work so early? I mean, if I knew earlier that it was mandatory to get the day off when we found each other- I mean- I would be on the lookout every other day- no. wait,"

Danny waved him off, "Naw, it's cool. Really awkward though when the whole place went into applause."

" _Dear lord_ that was the worst."

The silence once more seemed to thicken down their throats. Danny tapped his foot while Jack tapped his fingers on his blue jeans. Trying to look at anything but each other.

"So..." Danny pointed a thumb behind him, "Do I just... go? Is this it?"

Jack was now kneading at the ends of his shirt. "Well, you do know where I work so we can meet up again, if you want."

Danny slowly stood up and tried to ignore the sharp stabs of pain that followed his nerve endings. "I will, I guess. Someday. It- I'm sorry, I really am but I don't think it'll be anytime soon."

Jack Frost slowly nodded. "I- yeah, yeah no. It's ok. Do whatever you need to." He shot Danny a lop-sided smile. "This was... awkward as hell, but... but nice. This was nice. Weirdly."

Danny gave a mock salute as he began walking. "Yes... nice. See you, I guess, one day. Maybe,"

Danny turned around, well aware how Jack Frost's stare was hot on his back. Dread crawled up his spine and his skull prickled.

Danny shoved it aside, mistakes like these Danny didn't have the time to correct. Not when everyone and everything he held dear was at such a high stake. Not when he left them trapped like that.

He wrapped his arms around himself arms feeling feeble as he cradled his own torso. Eyes hard on the sidewalk. He was alone, absolutely _alone_ on this. There was no Sam, no Tucker and no Jazz. Hell, even _Vlad_ was trapped.

It was Just Danny.

No one that could help, no one to turn. Only him, and him alone.

Sub-consciously, Danny's walk slowed and stopped. Before he could even process what he was doing, he turned around, and looked.

Jack Frost was gone.

Danny swallowed, and did all that he could.

He kept walking.

Behind one of the dumpsters on the other side of the park was Danny's backpack. With a thick grunt Danny swung it over his shoulder before his legs threatened to buckle. Knees wobbly, Danny huffed quick sharp breaths until he could steady himself and loop his arm through the other shoulder strap. Right at that moment, Danny has never felt so worn and used through like an old cloth. Even his own hands, Danny couldn't help but notice how deep the calluses were at his finger pads and knuckles, knuckles that seemed to always be red and swollen.

It was too public, and Danny was too tired to Go Ghost. Forcing Danny to take one shaky step after another. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore the lactic acid building up, well, everywhere.

And his body seemed to deem now the time to remind Danny his burn chest, making it too warm like he had a fever. Bits and pieces of his skin felt dead and numb as well scorned.

Oh, and his only shirt had a huge stain on it now.

Great. Just great.

Shadows danced as the sky changed hues. Walking to the side of the road, red converse scraping against the gravel and smooth cement. Like veins to arteries the streets twisted and thickened to a highway. Summer heat making dark clumps stick to his forehead and his jeans stick to his skin.

Danny face felt drain as he kept taking step after step, trepidation pooling down in his stomach, like there was a tight chain in his spine and one step would make it snap in two. Sweat stinging his eyes, Danny shook of his bag with a hiss. Rolling his shoulders, Danny stood straight, hands on his hips.

This... wasn't so bad. A deep breath and Danny could be back on his way-

Ringing pierced through his ears as Danny crumpled down like a folded chair, a sharp pain shooting through his core making his once sturdy hands tremble. And for a moment he was thankful rather than creeped out with how empty the road has become.

It looked like him and Jack were not finished, Danny thought dryly.

The pain pushed him down on his knee, having him take deep gasping breaths. Idly, Danny wondered how Jack Frost felt at this particular moment. His eyes widen as guilt swarmed his mind. Pushing away all discomfort, Danny scrambled his bag back on his shoulders, ignoring the way it made his shoulder and collar bones clenched too tightly.

"Going Ghost." It was strange, the way Danny said it; it was in a soft whisper, gentle. One could almost call it accepting. But regardless it was through clenched teeth. Like a meaningless promise. Or maybe a surrender.

Like poison, Danny's dark hair corroded to a grey white and his clothes turned to a too-familiar black HAZMAT suit. And just like every other time, a bright cold light washed over him, then gone. He felt faded, in the strangest sense. Like a old photo, such a feeling he get's every transformation also as if he peeled of a stiff suit. It always disturbed him, how right he felt. Especially since the warmth always fades and drains out of his cheeks and body, red gone and heart still.

And just as always Danny turned his thoughts on other things. Like wondering if Jack was still at the coffee shop.

_. . ._

 

"Wow. You're just the biggest drama queen to... well for me, since forever."

Danny frowned, "Excuse you?" Nothing about anything as of lately has gone how it was supposed to. For example, Danny didn't even catch Jack at the Starbucks, but rather him on the way to walking home and next to a store with several TV's going all at once in the windows. Although thankful, Danny was in his human form once more, that was planned above all else.

"You." Jack frost waved a hand at where Danny stood, "Drama queen. I mean, I thought that we weren't going to meet until, what, Years and years later? If ever?" Jack shook his head, looking the worst combination of smug and amused. "It's been only a few hours."

Danny scowled, his whole body aching and patience running thin. "Dude, you didn't we... you-" he floundered. "Didn't... feel that? All that pain?"

Suddenly Jack Frost's face darken and turned an ashen color. "I... no. No, yes. It hurt like nothing else."

"Yeah, it's pretty apparent that the universe or whatever you think it is doesn't think that we're finished here."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Is this the part where you offer to take me on some quest of yours? Like every cliché b-rated movie?"

Danny went quiet awfully fast.

At Danny's sudden turn of stoicness Jack Frost started to crackle. The nervous and disbelieving kind, "Oh my god you _are_."

"Look, I'm not crazy! I'm just-"

Jack Frost cut him off before he could go too far. " _Look_ , the mere fact alone that you had to declare your sanity just then is... less than a good sign."

"If I don't need to explain and if you just believed me, I'd be worried about your sanity as well!" Danny sputtered.

"Let's..." Jack Frost pinched the bridge of his nose before giving a sharp exhale. "just, _stop_ for a moment and _not_ accuse the other of poor mental health until you finish whatever is you think a heap of crazy would be,"

Danny took a deep breath. "... Ok."

"Ok."

There were a few moments of silence.

Jack Frost gestured Danny to go on. "So...?"

"So, um. Right." Danny fiddled with his fingers as his eyes darted around the street, "So... my whole town disappeared."

Jack Frost waited.

He waited a little longer.

Jack then gave a slow clap, one brow raised. "Wow. Ten outta ten. Best backstory. _So_ well explained. So much depth, I feel so acknowledge and _well informed_ -"

"Hey, you know what? You're an ass hat."

"Charming."

Danny threw his hands into the air. "Alright, fine. You wanna know? _You wanna know_? For the past fucking week- I've been sleeping in odd make-shift garbage places-beds Whatever! Because _fuck it_ , everything and everyone I've ever gave a _rat's-ass_ about _,_ all of Amity Park, is trapped in a hell hole because of some- some _ghost king_ that wants to rule the world! I don't even know _why_. Power? Money? Probably!"

"Of course, fucking Vlad had a plan, like he _always does_ where he traps the ghost king with everyone else and he would escape! Except, _surprise surprise_ , not everything went to plan and _I'm_ out here instead. Now I gotta find a natural ghost portal with _no map_ so that way I could kick his royal ass- and try to come up some last-minute shit like how I _always_ have to." Danny heaved, hands clenched. As almost an afterthought he added, "An army would be preferred though. To fix this mess."

"I... understood almost none of that. But, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together that you need to go somewhere and because of," Jack Frost gestured back and forth between them. " _This_. We need to go there together. Wherever that is." Jack then placed his hands on his hips and took in a deep breath. "So... how dangerous or hazardous is this road trip?"

Danny blinked. "Wait, you believe me? Just like that?" He narrowed his eyes to slits, "You’re not gonna like, try and murder me on the way, leaving my body in a ditch or something, are you?"

"No and no, and for the record, you're the murder for all I know." Jack Frost shrugged almost passively. "We could both be murders and this is a comedy sitcom about how it hilariously back-fired."

Danny paused and nodded, "Alright, point to you." a beat, "So, you believe me?"

"No offence but no, everything you've said sounds like absolute insanity.” Jack Frost hesitated  “But, one learns not to question insanity and no matter what I do your probably crazy enough to just do it any way. So, against better judgment I'm going to go along with it."

Danny could only just stare. "Are- are you always like this?"

A nervous laugh bubbled out of Jack, "Ha! No, I don't think so? It's just- I think this is a fair way to react when going to an 'adventure' like this. You, um, you still haven't answered my question."

"It'll be dangerous-"

"Oh, look. I've suddenly lost interest."

"Not for you, dumb ass!" Danny shook his head. "I just need you to stick around close enough where we don't double over in agony! I'm going to be the one doing the hazardous dirty work. _You_ just have to stand back and watch."

"This is crazy! This is absolute madness-"

Both Teens paused when one of the TVs sputtered through the thick of it 'Amity Park'. They turned and looked at the screen in the center of the display.

The voices crackled. " _Heelllo- Pennsylvania! Welcome to this evenings News stations! We have some innntresting news about our favorite haunted town, Amity park!"_

_"The whole place disappeared, didn't it? Noth'en but a crater in the ground like a freshly popped zit!"_

_"That's disgusting Jim."_

" _Whatever Barbra."_

Chills crawled up Danny's spine as goosebumps began to form on Jack Frosts arm.

_"in all seriousness though, the footage is... disturbing at best. Continue with caution."_

Violent flashes of events erupted through Danny's head like a movie on fast-forward.

_A king stood tall with one lonely eye, gleaming with something wild and empty._

_The crooked pelts flowed on his shoulders reaching far like a blood river against the sky that bled a toxic green. Almost shaped like the scar that mirrored his face. Where the other eye was gone._

_His smile was a terrible thing, too. Like he had too many teeth crowding each other._

_"Ḭ̰̱̯̯̋̍̀̌ͩ ͚̠̹̟ͫw̠̙͍ͥ͑̄̃o̾n̼̣̄͗̓̿̄ͦ'̖t͚͉̲͈͐ͬ ͚͈̦̤͎̪́͆b̦̻̹̰ͦ̌ͯ̐e͖̠ͦ̅̅͛̾͂ ̰̼͈͖t͈̱ͮ̾̚ͅr̩̪̦͈ͤ͋ả̺̙̜̹̄̄͗̆p̦̹̗̗ͫͬ̉ͅp̏̂̏̃͂e̤̬̅ͨ̃͗d̙ͫͫ ̯̩̣̃ͩl̔̉͛͗͗ͩo̲̰̳̪ͤ̓n̫̖͇̪͙͍̯g͇ͭͅ, ̯̖̣̬̱͒ͨͅ ̰̭ͬ̓̑̄́m̮͍̱̼̐̓̓̂̔̃ͅÿ̘̰͕͉͓̣́̓̓ͪ̑ b͉̞̞̯̂̋̓̿͂ͦo̻̰̹̜͖̣͍ͧͨ̉ͦ̚y̝͇̤̞."_

_His grin widened. Eyes aglow with a cinnamon light._

_"Ì̥̐̓̆ͭ̑ͅ ̆̔̔̀͐ͨc͎̩͓̩̱̄ͦ͑a̞͕̰̔̊̃ͫͭñ̻͉̼̬̳̗ ̝̪͇̼̼̽w͈̝̰͚͋a̭ͤ̏̏ì̻̠̗̤̰̮̏t̟̜̩̯͙͖̓̉̈́ͤ."_

The TV was all that it took to snap Danny out of his morbid memory. " _In... other news, folks. Please keep an eye out on the list of residents we keep on our website, they may be what we need to unravel this, ever-growing mystery._ "

'Mystery' indeed.

 


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's worried, Danny's not exactly proving that he has all of his marbles and Amity is a damn mess.

Disease

dɪˈziːz/

_noun_

noun: **disease** ; plural noun: **diseases** ; noun: **dis-ease** ; plural noun: **dis-eases**

  1. a disorder of structure or function in a human, animal, or plant, especially one that produces specific symptoms or that affects a specific location and is not simply a direct result of physical injury.



"bacterial meningitis is quite a rare disease"

_synonyms:_

| 

 sickness, ill health; infection, disorder, affliction, condition, defect, abnormality, plague, cancer;  
  
---|---  
  
  * a particular quality or disposition regarded as adversely affecting a person or group of people.



 

 

_. . ._

 

 

 Danny, a boy that Jack Frost had just met, was still staring at the television with unblinking blank eyes and unplugged from the world

“Danny… Danny? Danny!”

Danny jolted then turned to Jack.

“Where- what even is this? Do you have a goal?” Jack floundered. “Do you even have a plan?” _Something?_ _Anything_?

Danny rubbed his bruised eyes. “Listen man, I’m gonna be honest with you, we can’t… _go_ , to anyone. There’s not really anyone but me as the most qualified for what crazy as- crap I’m about to pull.”

Jack fumbled with his hands, “And what makes you, uh… ‘qualified’ _?” Please say something legit and sane, please please please-_

“Easy. My parents were _\- are_ ghost hunters.” For a moment, Jack swore that Danny wasn’t breathing before he hissed in a breath between his teeth. “All I need to do is… find… a portal.”

“… excuse you? A _Portal_? _To where_?!” _Fuck, fuck, fuck, what? What! Is this?!_

“Ghost zone, portal, going to the other side, crossover. But- er. Without the… ‘dying’ part.”

“ _Dying part_?!” Jack said. _Oh, hell nah_.

“Without!” Danny’s dulled tired eyes widen for a moment, “Key word, Without!”

“And It’s just going to be me, alright? You’re not going to be in the field or anything.” Danny cleared his throat, “Besides, Philadelphia is one of the most haunted parts of America aside from Amity. A portal is bound be around here _somewhere_.”

Jack Frost felt like his stomach couldn’t decide on whether to drop to his feet or clog his throat. “… So… When do we go?” _Since you’re going whether I want to or not anyways._

“Now, I suppose? As soon as you get your stuff sorted?”

Jack took in a deep breath. “Alright.” _Oh god-d-d-d-d_ \- “Ok.”

“Hey, um… Sorry, that you got dragged into… this,”

Jack couldn’t really think of anything to say. So, he just shrugged.

. . .

 

“Wow, Danny. I would rank this place five stars.”

“Top class.”

“Second to none.”

Both teens stared at the rickety house, vines covered the walls like a dense layer of skin, only a pale white and the peeled paint from the second story was what showed evidence that this house ever had a paint-job. Its door was the only slightly welcoming aspect about it, hanging off the hinges like an open hungry mouth.

“This,” Jack gestured to the house. “Right here? A terrible idea.”

“… no…?  No! This is fine! It’s totally fine.”

“Danny, please. One more time. For my sake, say that with some confidence.”

 Danny ignored him “It’s only for, what? A night? We’ll totally be fine.”

“That’s basically what the start of every terrible horror movie has ever said. Ever.”

“Well, this is _not_ like a horror movie. We would be _way_ more stupid then this if that was the case.”

“I don’t know Danny; the verdict is still out.”

 Danny was the first to step in, “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response and… _oh my god_.”

“… Danny? What-” _If it’s a body, then I swear to god-_

“There’s a creepy clown in here.”

_That’s almost worse. That’s so much worse_. “No, _no_ you _can not_ do this to me. This is _not_ the time for jokes. I want to at least, pretend, that I can get a good night rest and you are _not_ helping that cause!”

“Jack-”

“It’s a good cause, Danny!”

“Just come in here and _look_ if you don’t believe me!”

Jack Frost didn’t move.

“Just, _look_.”

Ever so slowly Jack Frost peered over Danny’s shoulder and sure enough, there was a clown. A life-sized doll that was limp and had on a red paint chipped faded blue-spotted baggy onesie. It had a face made of wax and was grinning with its way too long wooden teeth.

“… That’s not ok.”

“It really isn’t.”

“This is not ok.”

“We need to leave.”

“This was a mistake” Jack slowly backed up, “We are in no way sleeping here.”

“Do you have money? I’ll pay you back later. If not, we can break in somewhere else-”

“Yeah, I don’t have that kind of money. But we can always sleep outside…” As soon as he turned Jack’s shoulders drooped. “a-a-a-and it’s raining.”

“Huh. Of course.”

Rather inconveniently, the sky chose then and now to pour. And it wasn’t just drizzling, either. It was pouring so hard that it looked like someone was dumping swimming pools over their heads repeatedly.

“… ok I know that we haven’t seen civilization in the four hours walking here,”

“Danny,”

“And it’s pretty late.”

“Danny.”

“But! I think we can make it! After all, it’s only rain-”

Lightning painted across like thick roots taking hold of the sky. The thunder violated their ears and shook the house with it’s sheer reckoning. The air itself smelled like raw electricity and ozone.

“…”

“Jack?”

Jack Frost slowly walked inside and slowly closed the door, regardless how it didn’t quite fit back in the doorway. “… You think we can burn it?”

Danny glanced at the clown. “In an unstable building? With my luck? That thing is probably cursed I think not.”

There was a solid ‘thump’ as Jack’s head banged against the door frame. Repeatedly.

. . .

 

Jack was seriously thinking about calling the authorities now.

Granted, Jack wasn’t exactly worried about Danny being convinced that a ghost stole his sleepy town. And given the fact that every source of news Danny showed him on the news and net and all the pictures and videos showed that there was a crater instead of where a whole town should be, that was undoubtedly unusual and fishy.

Besides, he’s seen some crazy things from working at a low-wage coffee place. From two dudes ordering naked on a dare, a brawl that got the attention of twenty police cars and a random dude coming in with twenty cheeseburgers in his bag and calling out; ‘Free cheeseburgers yo,’

(And yes, Jack Frost took one. Squashed, but not bad.)

Point remaining, this whole inconvenient event made only up to top ten of the strangest things that happened to him.

What truly worried Jack the most was the state Danny was in. Coming in and ordering two (or three? Was it _four_ at some point?) large pure shots of expresso and having the bags under his eyes so dark that Danny gave more of the impression of a raccoon rather than human being _and_ the random twitching was very, very concerning.

And the whole thing about ‘ _only him’_ can take down this whole ghost villains of yore.

Also, the technical kidnapping, one could suppose.

With all the evidence, if Danny was even near the capability of having clear, logical thoughts, that would be a damn phenomenon.

Only a few things really stopped Jack;

One; no wifi and Jack had little to almost no data.

Two; The last thing Jack needed was to call the number that the news people showed on the telly while Danny was watching.

All cards were off the table to how Danny might react, especially when he was saying wacked-out sentences as-of the time he gasped out of no-where in realization that ‘werewolves are totally solar powered’ and ‘Saturn would make the best-est floaty.’

And third, this was by far the best day off from the coffee shop that he’s had in quite a while. The fact that he was even in the sort of force break from his job was a miracle and to be honest, Jack had his queries about why this would be more acceptable excuse to missing work then when he had explosive diarrhea but each to his own.

Jack supposed there was a fourth reason, of sorts. That clown was sending nothing, but bad vibes and Jack had the sneaking suspicion that if he turned away for too long it would start moving.

Danny must’ve felt the same because he was looking at it too.

Jack’s eyes darted to Danny then the clown. “I still think we should burn it.”

“I want to, Jack. I really, really want to.”

“What’s stopping us again?”

“Um, where would all the smoke go? And if we opened the windows, we’ll be flooded.” Danny shrugged, “Plus, accidentally burning down this place is not exactly my top priority.”

Jack Frost, too, supposed that was a good reason. “Such a shame, Pete here looks extra flammable.”

Danny nodded. Then came to a sudden pause, “You named the clown _Pete_? Dude, that’s like, a terrible name.”

“I figured that it’s going to sound terrible no matter what we name it.” Jack Frost said. “So, I figured that we might as well use the worse of the worst.”

“Go figure.” Said Danny dryly.

“I’m…” Jack, as much as he wanted to, couldn’t keep his eyes away from the clown. “going to check to see if there’s better places to sleep. Then near… that.”

Once more, Danny nodded. “Sounds good. You could use my sleeping bag if you don’t have anything.” Danny shifted, eyes narrowed at Pete. “I’ll keep watch.”

That statement didn’t exactly have Jack Frost brimming with confidence for Danny’s sanity. But whatever. Might give Jack some thinking room. “You… do that.” Jack paused then notice something off. “Hey…”

“Hm?” Danny still didn’t turn away.

“You sure you don’t want to keep the sleeping bag?” Jack said. “You look cold.” Blue wisps were teeming from Danny’s mouth ever since they entered the house and its only summer. He wondered if it was medical.

“It’s just ghosts. Don’t go anywhere where you can’t call for help.”

Jack turned around as he made a face. “… Su-u-u-u-re… ok buddy. I’m- yeah. I’m going to… go… now…”

As subtle and quickly as he could, Jack Frost scurried out of the room and took a breath as soon as he was out the room and through the archway.

Inside the house wasn’t much, but it was dry(ish). It has some stray furniture and the walls gave off a blank feel like they were still deciding to close in or not on the new residence.

That settled it, in the morning when the storm cleared and as soon as they leave this creepy house, Jack is pulling the breaks on this whole mess.

A bookshelf in the hallway was what pulled Jack’s attention. As soon as he saw it his hands slickened with sweat.

There, right on the top was a porcelain doll. Her eyes were too big and dark and gave the impression like it was watching (always _watching_ ) in her red worn dress. And she wasn’t faced upright, cold cheek pressed against the wood, it still watched.

Jack Frost impulsively reached out, ready to turn it around immediately. Finger-tips ready and almost brushing against the surface until Jack realized that he absolutely _did not_ want to touch that and jerked his hand back.

‘ _Don’t go anywhere where you can’t call for help’_

As crazy as it sounded at the time, Jack was starting to realize that it wasn’t half-bad advice.

With sweat traveling down the temple of his skull, Jack Frost once more quickened his pace through the grey hallway. Hands deep in his blue hoody pockets and stance rigid.

All Jack Frost wanted was a good room to sleep in, alright? That was it. That was all. Was that too much to ask for? No. No it wasn’t.

Jack considered just leaving. Walking out and back home until he remembered exactly what happened when Danny tried that.

Ah. That’s right. ‘Soulmates’, the two of them. Lots and lots of pain. Unpleasant to say the least.

It must’ve been a long hallway because the first door finally appeared. But before Jack could open it he hesitated.

This felt wrong.

The whole house felt nothing but _wrong_.

And was it just Jack or was it getting colder with every step?

Pushing these notions aside, Jack Frost opened the door.

_. . ._

The people of Amity were pulled into a very strange situation indeed.

By now, food would’ve been seriously lowered, people would have been dying left and right out of dehydration (for no pipes meant no water) and whatever water they did find would’ve cause some rather nasty fights and wouldn’t’ve been clean in the slightest.

And if that didn’t kill them, then the lack of oxygen certainly would’ve had. For there was no oxygen in the ghost zone, and the only oxygen that would’ve been available would be the one trapped in the accidental air-pocket the Fenton’s made when they created their Anti-ghost shield. And even that wouldn’t have lasted long.

Everyone should be dead, if not in a few minutes then in a day at most. Danny wouldn’t have a home to come back to, let alone win over or save. He would no longer have the motivation. The story would be done and said. And the Ghost King would just have another relatively small plot of land, causing deaths of the masses for no solid rhyme or reason.

However, if that was the case, we’d have no story. Not really. And the Ghost King would be a fucking idiot for pulling in all those resources and using all that power in a way that wouldn’t benefit him economically or politically at all.

No, the truth is, the people of Amity Park were becoming less and less like people themselves. Skin blooming into a frigid blue from lack of air. Their frame becoming withered, twisted. Almost like their own bodies were trying to implode in on themselves but something was stopping it last minute.

They didn’t quite look like ghosts. Oh no, not yet. Not now. But they certainly looked like they were on Deaths door and knocking.

The people of Amity; clever or not, knew to some extent why. That the Ghost King, a being with such sheer raw power that it rippled across the whole of the town in waves. That he was the center of all of this.

In fact, he was at the Town Center. Waiting still, on a throne of bones and thorns that was made then and there by the very being himself. Poised always like he was thinking.

Sam Manson glared out the window with a cutting glance second to none and a look of disgust that would leave most shriveled. “Ok, we need that fucker dead- _permanently_. And we needed him dead yesterday.”

“ _Language_.”

“Suck my sweet ass Jazz.”

“Ladies, ladies.” Tucker said. “Given the situation at hand, and given the fact that I had to suffer with no wifi for the past _week_ , can we, maybe _, not_ do this? Just saying.”

“Yeah, and Jazz?” Sam gesture to her own blue hands. “I think I kinda have a right to curse whenever I fucking want.”

“Alright. Fine.” Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose. “What were you saying? About wanting a freaking _ghost king_ dead? It sounded like you were going somewhere there.”

With a paranoid glance Sam closed the blinds. “I say we try to leave the Ghost Zone. If not, then _at least_ try to find some old books on the Ghost King.”

Tucker raised a brow and gave a chuckle that sounded like it was in the edge of panic. “ _Leave the Ghost Zone?_ You know how crazy that sounds, right?! Look at us Sam!” Rigidly Tucker lifted and lowered his arms. Wincing all the while, “I can barely even _move_. Hardly any of us can.”

“And the Pariah Dark has pretty much absolute omnipotence. At least in the area.”

Sam farrowed her brows. “Oh, come on now Jazz. He couldn’t have _that_ much power-”

“No… Jazz… Jazz has a point.” Tucker’s skin looked chalkier then usual and his face turned into an ashy color. “Just- think about it. We all know that there’s no air, yet all of us can talk _perfectly_. Scientifically speaking, without air, we shouldn’t be able to talk, like… At all.”

“Tucker,” Sam said, “already we shouldn’t even be _alive_. Being able to talk isn’t much of a shocker after that.”

“No, Sam _, think about this_.” Tucker with stiff hands and lame fingers pulled up his glasses. “If you were a super-powered god-like being _dictator_ , to make rebellion less likely, wouldn’t you make sure that the people couldn’t talk? If you could?”

“That wouldn’t stop them though, not for long.” But even as she said this Sam, despite the stubborn pout, she was too starting to get pale.

“I think what Tucker means is,” Jazz said quietly. “The only reason we can talk at all is because Pariah wants us too.”

“And if he want’s us saying something he must be watching us somehow.” Sam’s fists were shaking, her lilac lips curled into a snarl. “He has to have eyes _everywhere_.”

After a long silence Tucker made a face, “Ew.”

_. . ._

 

Jack Frost immediately regretted his decision of opening the door.

There, lying across the bed was a life size Doll. If one could even call it such. It had hands sewn on and sticking out across the torso, it was covered in what looked like moles, rashes and eyes and it was curled in a fetal position, inside stuffing looked similar to torn out like entrails and the stiches holding the whole thing together looked like thick, black hairs.

“Wha- _what the fuck_?!” Jack Frost, as soon as he could process what was laying in front of him, whirled backwards and slammed the door close.

Jack’s head went into loops; _It’s just a doll. **It’s just a doll**_. His whole body seemed to go into withdrawal as he backed into the wall as far as he could, hands close to his chest.

The only sound in the hallway was Jack’s heavy breathing.

With shaky hands, Jack Frost slowly pushed himself of the wall, rattled to the core.

Room after room it was all the same. A doll, some as small as his pinky, the biggest was seven or eight feet high. Some were hanging from the ceiling, some where on shelves or cabinets, others swaying in the closet with a single string.

Each had a different face, each seemed older then the last. Each and every room had a doll.

There was even one room that had what look like a haunted _Goofy Suit_. And if the stain was ketchup or blood, Jack Frost felt like he already knew the answer.

The deeper the house Jack ventured, the creepier it got. The more string that seemed to run through the house like veins, the more surreal his surroundings felt.

This, was the point Jack decided to turn around. Pretend he saw nothing, and maybe call the police.

But before Jack Frost could take a step the floorboards behind him creaked and Jack froze.

Far down the hallway, the footsteps came closer, steadied and paced.

“… Danny?” Jack’s words seemed to choke on his throat. “Danny, c'mon man, _please_ tell me that’s you.”

Silence.

“If you’re trying to scare me, that’s just- that’s not ok.”

Still, the footsteps came closer. And for the first time Jack noticed how _off_ they sounded. That it sounded like it was dragging something behind it, that it hid soft tapping sounds with each step.

_Not it, Danny_.

“I’m going to turn around Danny. And if that’s you, I’m going to freak’en _deck_ you.” Ever so slowly, Jack turned.

And what was walking towards Jack Frost wasn’t Danny.

Pieces of Dolls and fabric and porcelain, twisted and shattered made one being that took up the whole hallway. It’s many heads scraped the ceiling as pieces of stray pieces of string that littered the house seemed to be taking turns holding it upright.

A doll on strings.

This had to be some sort of hallucination. There was no shape or way that this could be real.

(It shouldn’t be.)

But if Danny drugged him somehow, if there was a gas leak or if Jack had just plain lost it. Or worse, if it was all truly real, Jack right now didn’t care.

Real or not, the last thing Jack Frost wanted was that thing near him. And Jack ran as fast as his legs could carry him, taking wide strides as he leapt and dodge away from obstacles in his path.

“Danny! Da-a-a-a-a-anny! Holy hell, _Fuck_. Danny!”

Could Danny do much? Probably not. Regardless, it was probably best if Danny knew-

Jack’s heels dug into the damp floorboards as Danny seemed to of had suddenly appeared before Jack. Panting, Jack Frost pointed behind himself, “You seeing what I’m seeing?!”

Danny glanced behind Jack and raised his brows, “You mean a giant Doll? Then yes.”

For a moment, Jack Frost waited for Danny to do… anything really. Scream? React? Step in front and maybe say something along the lines of ‘It’s cool babe, I got this.’

Danny with a drowsy look in his eyes gave Jack Frost a wink. “It’s cool babe, I _got_ this.”

… Ok when Jack Frost thought that he was being _sarcastic_. With his throat feeling like someone stuffed cotton in it, Jack dryly asked; “So, what are you going to _do_ exactly?”

“Easy, me and the doll over there are going to have a very civilized conversation.” With way more confidence then what Danny should possess, he began making way to the lumbering Doll monster of unimaginable horror.

It was in that moment did Jack realized that he was truly, absolutely, without a doubt, Royally Screwed.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone got problems for sure and everyone has some hope, (if that'll be enough I'll let you decide)

AN: Ok so at first this was going to be an epic fight scene, but then I realized that if someone broke into my house I, too, would be pretty upset so you’re getting this instead.

 

 

 

“Hey, so, um,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “You live here? Real sorry about this, breaking into your house and all.”

The ghostly doll of horror finally stopped and stared down at Danny. Wither it was one voice or hundreds joined together, Jack Frost couldn’t tell. But regardless it said; “ **Why, on _earth_ , are you and your friend _, in my house_?** ”

Danny shrugged. “The rain was getting pretty bad and we’re kinda on a quest. Plus, it looked pretty abandoned.”

“ **A _freak’en_ \- oh my god it’s the _Pokémon Go_ faze all over again. You guys came to my house? Over a _game_? I swear, my human neighbors don’t get this kinda crap-** ”

Jack Frost looked between the two like he was in the mist of a tennis match. Squinting like he looked at the sun too long and meanwhile Danny grew two heads.

“What? Oh, no. We’re kinda on a real quest. Old school, yea know? We’re trying to find a ghost portal,”

The Ghost doll( _s?_ ) narrowed their eyes at Danny and leaned dangerously close. “ **You know about… Ghost portals?** ” If possible, they leaned closer. “ **Why would _you_ need a ghost portal?** ”

“To take down Pariah Dark,” Danny didn’t flinch, didn’t advert his gaze. “The Ghost King.”

The fuzz on the ghost monster raised like hackles and they withdrew back. “ **Who on earth- Name, boy. _Now_.** ”

It was only a fraction, hardly noticeable, but Danny stiffened. “… Danny Fenton. You can call me Danny Fenton.”

“… **Alright never mind that tells me nothing.** ”

“Wait- you’ve never heard of the Fentons?”

The ghost shook their many heads.

“Me?”

“ **Nope.** ”

“… Phantom?”

“ **Never heard of ‘em.** ”

Danny raised his brows, “o…k then, that’s new. Well, anyways, if it helps, my town got taken into the ghost zone and I want it back, so I need a ghost portal.”

“ **Ah.** ”

Jack Frost was pulling at his hair at this point. Because _what_ on _earth_ was going on?!

Danny rocked from his toes to his heels. “By… any chance, do you know if one’s nearby?”

“ **A ghost portal?** ”

“Yeah man,”

“ **I’m afraid that I haven’t seen one in several years.** ”

Danny drooped. “Of course.”

“ **So…** **Can you, like, get out of my house? You’re kinda creeping me out.** ”

At this Jack Frost couldn’t hold it anymore. “ _We’re_ creeping _you_ out-?!” Before Jack could continue his rant, Danny stomped on his foot, _hard_.

“Ah- _ow_ \- shit, _why_.”

“It’s Rude, that’s why. We’re guests Jay’. _Guests_.”

“ **Were, if ever.** ”

“Yeah and they gave me death threats Gi-gi!” The clown Pete said.

Jack Frost jolted. “The fuck you came from?!” He then turned to Danny, “And did you just call me _Jay_?”

Danny shrugged.

Jack Frost turned to the Monster Doll or Gi-gi. “And your name is… Gi-gi?”

“ **Yeah, it is. Anyways as my boyfriend was saying; you threatened him?** ”

Both Jack Frost and Danny went into cold sweat.

“Not… Really? More like we said we _wish_ we could burn him.”

Jack Frost face-palmed.

. . .

 

“We should develop a code of sorts,” Sam paced back and forth in Danny’s room, or at least paced as well as her blue frail legs could carry her. “Something Pariah Dark wouldn’t figure out in a million years.”

Jazz rubbed her temples, “How on earth are we going to do that if he’s watching us now.”

“Well we don’t know that for sure,” Said Tucker.

Sam for a moment faltered in her walking, legs wobbling, before she started again. “That doesn’t mean that there isn’t still a very likely chance.”

Finally, Jazz looked up to where Sam was, “What are we fighting for, exactly?”

Tucker looked at her as though she completely lost it. “Uh, our _freedom_? Stopping whatever crazy plot the crazy power-hungry-”

Jazz shook her head. “I know that, but… but just look around us! There’s a portal at the city bounds stopping us from leaving-”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam crossed her arms. “Hence developing codes? Trying to escape?”

“Would you just _listen_ to me!” Jazz stood up, fast enough to leave her seeing stars. Although too much movement has left her seeing far too many lately. “The only reason why we’re alive is because Pariah Dark keeps us that way! Rebel? Boom! He snaps his fingers and we’re dead! Try to leave? For all we know, the minute we’re out of range, guess what? _Dead_.”

Sam fists shook. And no doubt with that snarl she was _angry_. But with who or what it was hard to decipher. Tucker’s expression was near unreadable. Was he angry, too? Horrified? Grief? Maybe even all three.

Jazz’s head was spinning and with wobbly legs she collapsed on the edge of Danny’s bed again. “We should be dead. We should’ve been dead a long, long time ago. Literally the only thing keeping this very town together is Pariah Dark’s sheer will.”

“Well…” Tucker pushed up his glasses. “What do you want us to do about it? Because Danny’s going to do anything in his power to get us back home,” Tucker pinched his nose. “we can’t kid ourselves, he can’t do this on his own.”

Ever so slowly, finger by finger Sam loosened her fists. “And who would we be to _completely_ rely on him alone for the survival of this town.” She sat down on the floor. “That would be cruel, to say the least,”

Tucker gave a dry, almost hysterical laugh. “Not like Danny wouldn’t try anyways.”

Jazz hesitated. “Our only hope is gathering as much information as we can and if- _when_ Danny does come, and when he does, we give him as much info as we can. And maybe… maybe that’ll be enough.”

The three slowly of them looked out the window.

The Ghost King sat still, unmoved as always.

Tucker was the first to break the silence. “Well, obviously, he’s not watching us now. Cuz I don’t think we would still be having this conversation. And if he’s not watching us now, that means that he can watch only so many at a time.”

Sam was smirking, “And if we don’t have his attention; that means he doesn’t know about our involvement with Danny,”

Tucker, too, grinned. “Or that Phantom and Danny are connected.”

“All seeing, but not all knowing,” Jazz mused. “… I think we can work with this.”

“But there has to be at least _some_ time when he’s watching us,” Says Sam. “We gotta find out when, and once again _, codes_.”

Tucker raised his hand, “Oh! Oh! I vote that we use movie references! I bet Pariah Dark has never in his undead life watched a movie.” Tucker shrugged. “And it would probably work really well for something so last minute.”

Both young women stared at him.

“Not… ideal,” Jazz bit her lip, “But it can work for now.”

Tucker fist-pumped.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Alright, but how will we get information in and out without going ourselves?”

Sam’s eyes went aglow. “The pipes! We can use the sewage system; the border doesn’t cover all the way down.”

Tucker raised a brow. “Uh, Sam? One, we can’t fit through those pipes, I highly doubt if a starved Rat could. And second, even if the pipes _were_ somehow big enough, once we’re out of Pariah Dark’s control range, and he must have one or else he would’ve taken over the world by now, then the Ghost Zone will kill us. _Duh_.”

If anything, Sam’s grin grew. “Who ever said that we would be the ones going in and out?”

“Are you suggesting that we get a ghostly messenger?” Jazz said. “If so, pray tell, how are we going to get one? All the ghosts left like bats out of hell as soon as Pariah Dark came, and we have no way of getting in contact with Wulf-”

“All ghosts left, but one.” Sam eyed the Thermos on the nightstand. “We never did find the time to let him out and thank god for that.”

Tucker’s eyes widen. “No. _Hell_ naw. You’re not suggesting that we ask for _his_ help?!”

Jazz eyed Tucker then the Thermos. “Wait, who was the last person you captured before Pariah Dark came?”

“We’re _dead_.” Tucker rubbed his eyes, sounding tired and simply done with life. “We thought we could make it, but naw, we _dead._ We’re _fucked._ ”

“Who’s in the Thermos?!”

Sam made a face, then looked back at Jazz. “The last ghost we captured was the Boxghost.”

“Oh,” Jazz whispered, “ _god_ no.”

_. . ._

 

Jack Frost was in a particularly fowl mood, and all for good reason. It was dark, the thunder vibrated the earth and the lightning dug deep roots across the sky, sometimes the flashes of violent light became shaped in such a way that it almost looked like knotted hands enclosing around them.

Now, Jack Frost wouldn’t mind this.

If he was inside.

But no. He and Danny were walking in the rain, no rain suits, no umbrellas, not a place to sleep and not a shelter in sight. Not that he could properly see anyways with the rain hitting his face like daggers.

Jack Frost clinched tighter to his hoodie, “I can’t believe we got kicked out.”

“Mmm.”

Jack glared at Danny. “You knew that place was haunted, didn’t you.” It wasn't a question.

Danny looked like he was going to collapse there and then, going into a deep sleep. “Yup. Ghost usually equals ghost portal. And that’s what I need right now.”

“That thing could’ve killed us! And you were going to let us _sleep_ there?!”

“No Gi-gi wasn't! And do you see anywhere else! Besides,” He mumbled. “I was going to take the first watch.”

“First _watch_ -” Danny stumbled before Jack Frost caught him and set him upright. “If you lasted fifteen minutes next to a sleeping bag I’d applaud you for your efforts.”

“Thanks,”

Jack Frost stared at Danny for a few seconds. “By god you’re insane.”

“Thanks.” Danny mumbled, half listening. “By any chance are you cold?”

Jack Frost, seeing no use on getting through to Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’m cold, wet and _miserable_ -”

“Give me your hand.”

Jack Frost lowered his hand and stared at Danny. “… I- what?”

“Your hand. Give.”

Before Jack Frost could even consider protesting Danny grabbed it. It was cold- clammy and…

And dry?

Jack was dry now? How…?

Ever so slowly, Jack looked to the sky, then back to his feet.

The rain was going _through him_. Jack Frost looked over to Danny. It was going through both of them.

… huh.

“I got some… basic ghost powers and stuff. Alright? That and, well, more importantly, experience.” Danny wasn’t looking at him. “So, I can more then handle ghosts, ok? Alright?”

“How, on earth, did you get ghost powers?” Jack felt like it was more then a reasonable question.

“… bruh. That’s like, super personal. But if you must know, I, well- I was messing around in the lab. And ectoplasm, ghost are made out of that apparently? The stuff is super radioactive like you wouldn’t believe. No protective gear, usually. So, yeah. Poof. Ghost powers.”

Now Danny was looking at Jack, and it was a cutting glare. Sharp and intense. “Also, wanna know why I gave you the nick-name?”

That… was a rather strange turn of subjects. “… sure? I guess?”

Danny looked back at the road as they kept walking. “You know in all those old stories? The ones where the fairies can control you if you give them your real name? Well, guess what inspired that?”

Jack Frost’s throat felt dry. “Ghosts.”

Danny nodded. “Yep. Of course, they can know your name. But you can’t _give_ it to them per-say.”

Jack Frost pulled a face. “is there really a difference?”

“Turns out, yeah. Saying stuff like ‘you can call me_’ or nicknames of any sort works too. Because nicknames aren’t _your_ name, exactly, so they don’t count. And the ‘you can call me_’ or anything that can’t be taken as you ‘giving’ the name works too. That’s why most ghosts have weird things they want you to call them.”

Jack Frost decided that Danny was far too casual about this. “I guess… I’m Jay for now on.”

“Well, I mean. You can use any name really-”

“No, no Jay works, I like Jay. It’s easy enough.”

Danny suddenly stopped and Jack Frost (or Jay now, one could suppose) jerked to a halt. “I also have a question to ask you.”

“O…k…?” Jack Frost swallowed, this could _not_ end well.

“Do you have a middle name?”

Jack Frost made a face. “Dude, I… it’s- it’s…” His mind went blank.

“Jac _\- Jay_ , before you came with me,” Danny asked almost cautiously, “What did your house look like?”

Jack’s mind scrambled. It looked for anything, anything at all that might give him a clue to what his house looked like. What were the color of the walls? Did he have wooden floors? Carpets? Or both? Who lived in that house with him?

Nothing _. Nothing_ came up.

“Jay, Jay it’s alright just- just take a breath.”

Jack Frost realized that he wasn’t breathing, his chest was tight, and he was making a wheezing sound that whistled from his lungs.

Danny gave Jack Frost’s hand a soft squeeze. “Just breathe, alright?” his words came softly. “ _breathe_.”

Jack Frost whimpered as he took small breaths. In, out. In, out. Out. _Out_.

“Jay, breathe in. _In_.”

Jack Frost glowered. “I’m doing the darn best I can!”

“Ah.” Danny gave a warm, smug smile. “There’s the Jack- _Jay_ I know.”

“Why can’t- how do I _not_ know anything about myself? How can I not _remember_?” Jack Frost then glanced back to Danny. “And how on earth could you tell?”

Danny shrugged. “The only explanation I could think for you coming with me as easily as you did was that you were cursed or something. And I had my memory wiped too once a few times, so, yeah.”

Jack Frost gave him a blank look. “Your… your first assumption about why I came with you ‘so easily’ was that… I was… _cursed_? _That_ was the immediate conclusion you came with?”

“Hey! I was right, wasn’t I?”

Well, Jack Frost couldn’t argue with that.

Danny glanced behind Jack. “Also, I think I found a place for us to sleep.”

Jack Frost turned around and squinted. “It’s… a leaky shack in the middle of no-where.”

Danny raised a brow. “Got any better ideas?”

Jack Frost sighed.

Danny smirked. “I’m taking that as a _no_.”

“God you’re the worst.”

_. . ._

 

“The Boxghost!? Seriously!” Tucker pulled a sour face, “I’m still sticking to what I said earlier, _hell_ to the _no_.”

“If you have a better idea, or someone else we can get in contact with,” Sam said wiry. “I’m all ears.”

Tucker glowered, but he said nothing.

“How are we going to know for sure that he’d do that for us?” Jazz still stared down at the Thermos. “Heck, I don’t even think he’s even going to stick around long enough for us to ask him.”

“My biggest concern,” Tucker said dryly. “Is if he’s even smart enough to help pull this off.”

“No, he should be. He stole Pandora’s Jar, right?”

Tucker pulled his gaze away from the Thermos and turned to Sam. “Don’t you mean Pandora’s _Box_?”

Sam waved him off, “That was a mis-translation.”

“Anyways,” Tucker huffed, “That was sheer dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck, Box, Jar,” Jazz shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. The Boxghost is all we have, and we need to figure out a way to make him help us, and the faster the better.”

Sam raised a brow, “Aren’t you the one studying to be a psychologist? Can’t you just, convince him, somehow?”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m studying about how the mind and how the thought process works. _Not_ on how to be an influential speaker.”

“Do your parents have something useful we can borrow then?” Tucker asked.

Jazz hesitated. “There is… One thing that comes in mind. The charge won’t last nearly as long as we need to. And as all of you already know, he don't have electricity to re-charge it.”

Sam smirked. The Boxghost doesn’t need to know that.”

Tucker suddenly froze, “Wait, I just- an idea just came to me. Oh my god we’re so _stupid_.”

Jazz furrowed her brows, “What?”

“What if we use the Boxghost to get to Danny? I mean, he always seems to find a way. And it would take way less time.”

The three of them stared at each other.

“How-” Sam made a face, “… did we not think of that sooner?”

. . .

 

“We’re sharing the sleeping bag Danny, whither you like it or not!”

Danny crossed his arms, “I’m not even sure the both of us can fit, besides, I’ll be fine! I swear.”

“Shut up and get in.”

Danny grumbled as he got under the cover with Jack Frost, muttering curses under his breath.

The shack wasn’t much and saying that was looking through rose-colored lens. The air was misty, water was constantly dripping through, Jack Frost was pretty sure there was mold growing in a lot of places and the thunder rattled the shack like miniature earthquakes. And now Jack Frost had to cuddle up to a guy he hardly knew just so they could both fit.

The only upsides were that the sleeping bag seemed water-proof, and the moss and mold softened the ground a bit.

But yeah. No pillow, no memories. And full offence but Danny _smelled_. Not that he could really judge. But as soon as Jack Frost spotted a place to wash up they were _taking_ it.

“Hey?”

Danny’s eyes flickered open. “Hmm?”

“You need a shower.” No, that was _not_ what Jack Frost meant to say.

Danny rolled his eyes, “Thanks.” A pause. “After I save my family and town and stuff, we can break your curse. We’ll go on _two_ quests,” Danny shrugged, “Or who knows, maybe we’ll be lucky enough to do both at the same time.

Jack Frost could only stare. “… Are you… are you sure?”

“Definitely. After all,” Danny shrugged. “Only seems fair. You’re dragged in this mess and I’m not even sure if anyone’s alive.”

Jack’s throat went dry. “What makes you think they won’t be?”

“Humans weren’t made to survive a place like that. There’s not even air.” Danny then gave a soft chuckle. “But hey, if anyone can find out a way to survive the ghost zone and the Ghost King, it’s gotta be them, right?”

“… Besides,” Danny turned around and was no longer facing Jack Frost. “I’m going to sleep less then I do now if I never know for sure.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> @ammo121.tumblr.com was the one who came up with the original prompt,


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